With only had one day to spend in Nassau, Bahamas, we were determined to make the most of it.  Disembarking the ship could start at noon and everyone was required to return no later than 11pm.

Other cruisers, discussed their plans for the day.  Excursions like snorkeling, boating, water parks, drinking at Señor Frogs and shopping topped the list. Those options were too touristy for me and Sean. Diving down beneath the surface and finding the locals is one of our favorite things about traveling. 

Before we lost our internet connection with the civilized world (and I refuse to pay twenty dollars a day to check email while on a three day vacation) I put a quick call on Facebook asking other seasoned travelers to list their favorite dive bars in Nassau. Within minutes suggestions came trickling in. One that caught our attention and  piqued our interest the most was from our traveling musician buddy Joe Jarka aka José Piano. (He’s the same one that gave us the winning suggestion of tarpon feeding in the Keys too)

Joe’s suggestion required a left turn where the others went right. Including a vague description about going under a second bridge, he even added a snapshot for visual reference.

Carolyn and Ingrid were up for the adventure with us. I warned them both to wear walking shoes. Once through the gate of the city, we scurried past the displays of mass produced souvenirs and tchotchkes stamped eoy “made in China”.

Crossing a few lanes of traffic and a couple blocks into town, we overheard a woman giving a private tour in her beautiful Bahamian accent. We interrupted her to ask where the bridges were. It only took a second and she nodded her head and pointed us in the right direction.

We now trusted to be on the correct path, walking at a healthy pace down Bay Street. This took us through what once was a lively town, although now the buildings are in a sullen state of disrepair. Sagging balconies with rotten wood and peeling paint were overhead as we cautiously stepped through broken, uneven concrete sidewalks beneath our feet.

Our imaginations filled in the blanks taking us back to decades ago when one would have seen brighter colors and tasted local flavor on the main thoroughfare of this island town.

The temperature was a perfect 72 degrees with a tropical breeze wisping around us. Blue sky and no clouds overhead. In my opinion, it is still a little cool for water sports, but perfect for a couple mile hike.

I checked my wrist step tracker, we were about a two miles in and starting to break a sweat, when we saw a sign pointing to a bridge was up a head, giving us the confidence to carry on forward. Taxis buzzed by filled with day trippers off to other tropical expeditions.

Traffic was a little heavier as we neared the intersection of roads converging towards Paradise Island and Atlantis area. We came upon the first bridge where our view was now more open and we could see the postcardesque aqua blue water. Continuing on through a construction site as white concrete dust clung to my feet with every step.

We were finally standing on the water’s edge between two bridges and the view was breathtaking. Water so clear you can see every creature working its mini ecosystems.

Following Joe’s instructions we continued to turn left at the second bridge. We stepped over the cords that came from the buzzing gasoline generator on the sidewalk that provided power to the pink and white striped shack on the corner.

After a couple mile hike we were clearly ready for a first round of libations. We were greeted immediately by Charlie, offering us menus at the third shanty in line called Daphne’s. We ordered one of each type of Kalik, the local Bahamian beer, so we could try sample them all. It didn’t take long before he enticed us to buy a conch salad. We sat and watched the locals come by, shopping for their fruits and vegetables from the stands in between the local watering holes. Enjoying diced conch with fresh tomatoes, onions and jalapeños.

Charlie wanted to hook us up with his special fireball shot, he poured into four plastic cups and set one front of each of us. We looked at each other and knew this was going to hurt. It was not the sweet cinnamon fireball we know of, as this had actual red pepper floating in it. I think my throat is still burning from its poison.

We paid our tab and carried on down shanty row, taking in the sights and talking to owners and their families perched on barstools on their porches. We were giving each other high fives and praising José Piano for his travel advice.

The area we were in is formally known as Potter’s Cay, but the locals refer to it as “The Docks”. It is where the divers come in from their daily dives, hauling pink conch shells to sell at the market. You just can’t get conch any fresher than this. We met Jermain, a conch diver stacking a pyramid of beautiful shells with live conch critters wiggling from inside.

Still wanting to stop and spend time at one of these establishments, but waiting for the right vibe and connection with the right people. Well… that would have been the next stop. Walking under the covered area of the next bar that had no patrons, a friendly guy behind the bar chided Carolyn for standing on her toes as she tried to measure herself on a “how tall am I scale” immediately there was a rapport between us so we each pulled up a stool to stick around. It did not take long till we were laughing and finding common ground with our new friends Andre, James, and Jason.

The sign on the wall read “Uncle Tellis”, before too many minutes passed Sean was talking to a gentleman a little older than the guys behind the counter. Sure enough it was Uncle Tellis himself. As the night carried on, it became obvious that Uncle is a well respected patriarch in this business community under the bridge.

The sun was beginning to cast long shadows across the street, it was nearing time to meet up with Erin, Josh and Smoot who went snorkeling for the day. Uncle heard Sean making arrangements and shook his head as he pulled out his cell phone and called his nephew. Minutes later, a little Honda civic rolled up and took Sean to pick up our other friends waiting at Señor Frog’s back at the cruise port. Within fifteen minutes, seven of our nine cruising companions were reunited sharing stories of the day.

Deciding to stay perched at Uncle’s place and continue our island party right here. We each ordered food from the dry erase board menu. A beautiful young woman arrived in time to help prepare our conch fritters, and other savory treats.  Sean requested fish and chips, he received a whole fried fish, eyes and all.

The music played on as other locals arrived and we danced and carried on committing shenanigans as we tend to do when we’re together on our island or another island.

We all agreed that by eight o’clock we’d be ready to board the ship with plenty of time to spare.

Uncle called a cab big enough for our crew that carried us back to the security checkpoint. We filed through the building one at a time. I had to catch this shot, that struck me funny, when Carolyn was digging  her passport from the bottom of her bag and asked the officer to hold her beer…. and he did.